Different Shades of the Inquisition
by Miranda le Ginger
Summary: Romancing someone is not always easy, especially for the Inquisitor. Thankfully, there is love to be found in the strangest places no matter race, gender, or ethnicity. Contains various Inquisitors and their romance partners.
1. Aspen and Leliana-M rated

A/N: I know this has been done a dozen times, possibly more. But, I have fallen so hard for both the characters in Inquisition and the Inquisitor themselves. These will be a series of one-shots showcasing various Inquisitors and their chosen romance. Some of these are based off of my own DA play-throughs, others are made specifically for fanfiction. Not all romances are found in the game as well, such as Leliana or a female Inquisitor romancing Cassandra. I hope you all enjoy these little snippets! Ratings will vary from T to M.

Disclaimer: I, Miranda of the Texans, do not formerly own Dragon Age or its various characters. I do however reserve the right to fawn over Cassandra and Sera. Sadly, my boos are the property of Bioware.

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Aspen slammed the rogue into the wall hard, eliciting a gasp from the red-haired beauty's lips. The Inquisitor swooped forward, claiming pink lips with her own fiercely. It had been far too long since she had Leliana; a mistake she would soon rectify. The dark-haired warrior deftly reached forward, hoisting the spymaster in her arms. Leliana, in tune with her lover's body and motions by now, slightly jumped forward and wrapped toned legs around a firm waist.

She made little sounds and moans in the back of her throat as the strong warrior continued to pepper her face in kisses. The caresses moved northward, claiming Leliana's lips once more. The former bard was going absolutely crazy; she had not been kissed, nor touched, in many years. Not since Marjolaine, and everyone knew how badly _that_ turned out. Leliana had harbored a crush on Thorn, but he had already fallen for Morrigan, though the Maker knew what attracted such a vibrant man to…her. She had fallen out of love with the Hero of Ferelden long ago, but her heart still ached from what could have been. She was tired of being lonely, and Aspen Rose Trevelyan was exactly what she needed.

Leliana wrapped her hands in tousled black hair, delighting in the soft silk beneath her calloused hands. Aspen held the lithe body in her arms, pressing her harder against the unforgiving wall. Her lips were ravenous, unwavering and unwilling to part from the one person with who understood her, and vice versa. The resident Inquisition spymaster had been an enigma from the start. Aspen had been intrigued by the woman who had traveled and fought alongside the Dalish elf who had risen as the savior of Ferelden.

Leliana…was the epitome of beauty and grace. Nobody had ever set the Inquisitor's heart racing like her rogue. She was brilliant and excelled in the art of secrecy, manipulation and subtlety. Yet there was a fragile vulnerability that hung just below the surface, causing the protective warrior to migrate towards Leliana. Neither knew that in a few short months of knowing each other, they would enter into a whirlwind romance consisting of hurried kisses, passionate conversation and a yearning that knew no bounds. Both women were ensnared by the other and there was no escape.

"Have I ever told you that you are the sexiest woman in all of Thedas?" Aspen literally moaned, helpless against the physical urges of her body begging her to just take the fiery-haired rogue _right fucking now_.

Leliana turned her head to the side, allowing Aspen to lick and suckle the sensitive skin of her neck. She bit her lip, stifling a whimper. "Y-yes, I believe you have. You certainly are not…biased in any way."

Aspen chuckled, the sound low and rumbling deep in the back of her throat. She grinned wolfishly. "Aye, but my opinion is the one that matters here. Everyone is jealous that I have the mysterious and beautiful Sister Nightingale by my side. How Thedas whispers…."

"No more than they whisper longings of you, my love. I am not the one everybody wants. Being the herald of a deity sure raises the attractiveness factor."

The warrior shook her head fondly, laughing at the rogue's attempt to downplay her own gifts in the guise of lavish compliments of her own. Leliana was really too cute sometimes, certainly too cute for the youngest Trevelyan heir to resist. Aspen placed a gentle kiss at the base of a pale throat, smirking as Leliana swallowed hard.

"Now dear, let's not be modest." Leliana's head thumped against the wall as Aspen sucked the hollow of her throat, softly nipping the skin. The kind warrior nuzzled against the warm skin, inhaling the scent of clean linen and Andraste's Grace, her lover's favorite flower that Aspen had happened upon in a small clearing in the Emerald Graves during a mission. Leliana had been very…appreciative.

"Dear Maker…." Leliana whimpered as her skin grew more and more sensitive to her warrior's ministrations. She clung to the muscled frame for dear life, panting as fiery lips moved down. Unfortunately for the two, they were both fully clothed and could, regretfully, not take off their clothes for fear of being interrupted. Both were due for another mission in less than twenty minutes, and so they had to make the most of the precious time allotted to their cause.

Without preamble, knowing that Leliana needed it as much as she, Aspen slid a hand down curves lost in fabric. The Inquisitor grasped Leliana through her pants, listening as a choked gasp was emitted from the pale woman in her hold.

"Aspen! Please!" Leliana cried out desperately, wanting nothing more than to feel the fullness Aspen's fingers granted her, to feel the comfort of another against and around her as she came undone. Leliana did not wear vulnerability well, at least not until Aspen literally fell into her life. Even her love for Thorn was never this encompassing.

For her part, Aspen decided to not tease the poor woman further. Swift fingers delved beneath tight pants, grazing the drenched underclothes hiding her prize. Leliana squirmed in her grasp, arching her back from the wall and squeezing broad shoulders beneath her fingertips. Finally, blessedly, Aspen fully felt slick flesh against her wandering digits, soaking them in a love more apparent than the threat of Corypheus.

Leliana cried out in ecstasy, body bowed in supplication. She met Aspen's thrusts, falling into the rhythm they had already memorized by heart, body and soul. Aspen watched the woman in rapture, noting the expression of utter pleasure etched across beautiful features. Sky blue eyes were closed in bliss, clenched as tight as the fists wrapped in Aspen's linen shirt. Sweat beaded a feminine brow and a crease marred the soft skin between light red eyebrows. Corded muscles stood stark on the straining neck, Leliana's entire body as taut as a bowstring.

"Oh…oh please….ahhh…Aspen!" The litany of sounds were like the sweetest music to the warrior's ears. She sped up her motions, looking down to see where her hand stood out in Leliana's pants. It was the hottest thing Aspen had ever seen. The woman had been pleasantly surprised that she, a virgin before being with Leliana, had managed to so quickly impress the older woman and apparently meet any preconceived notions concerning bedroom activities. True, Leli had been self-conscious of her old scars when they first coupled, but after Aspen lathered the raised flesh with tender kisses and gentle caresses, judgment devoid from her caring face, Leliana had been able to let go and accept the fact that she was finally loved.

The cries grew louder in volume as hips grew furious in tempo. Aspen sloppily kissed the red-head's neck, finally placing her sweaty forehead against that of her paramour.

"Aspen…I-I can't…" Leliana tried to form a coherent sentence, but her mind was a blank canvas. All she could do was feel the shocks coursing through her overheated body and try to swallow in enough oxygen to not pass out. Scratch that, she was so going to faint.

Pale violet orbs locked onto fluttering blue, holding the passionate gaze. "It's okay my love. Just let go; I will always catch you."

The whispered words of reverence, layered with promise and all the hope Leliana thought lost, was enough to push the woman over the precipice. With a cry that seemed to shake the very heavens, even with Aspen's mouth slanting over hers, Leliana finally allowed her body to relax and an explosion greater than at the Conclave rocked through her body.

Aspen watched in amazement as the lithe body twitched and shook in her arms, a flood of wetness coating her fingers. Aspen was swept away in the deluge, smiling softly as she beheld the sight that kept her fighting, the reason she fought so hard and so long every day. Aspen cared about Thedas, sure, but it was a simple spymaster who kept her going when the darkness threatened to overwhelm her. Aspen was not the herald of Andraste; Leli was. The warrior, not overly religious, found herself thanking the Maker fervently for sending this beautiful angel to her.


	2. Evelyn and Sera-T rated

A/N: Next up, chapter 2 featuring my current Inquisition character and her romance, Sera! This takes place in the Emerald Graves, my absolute favorite area in the game (so far). Bioware must certainly have listened to the fans' complaining about the re-used areas in DA 2 because Inquisition blows both previous games out of the water when it comes to areas.

Disclaimer: Nope, still do not own any Dragon Age! Just like playing with the characters.

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Evelyn reclined back in the lush grass, groaning softly as her tired muscles were finally allowed the time to relax. Her messy gray locks, the color of a tempest at its zenith, shielded what little bit of sun filtered in through the breaks in-between the trees. Cool silvery-blue eyes slid closed as the exhausted warrior finally allowed her brain to gently power down. The Inquisitor grew still, her breathing deepening as sleep overcame her. All was well in the world.

A shadow fell over the slumbering woman, a pair of golden brown eyes watching Evelyn sleep, her chest rising and falling evenly. Sera smiled lightly, a twinkle in her lively orbs as she smoothly slid down on the ground beside her lover. The rogue propped her head in one hand, staring down at the face she had long ago committed to memory.

A deep tan covered the entirety of the warrior's body, making the Trevelyan look almost Rivaini in appearance despite her Orlesian roots. Her eyes were the shade of a lake at full moon, the brilliant light casting an ethereal glow among the waters. A scar started just above her right brow, ending a smidgeon passed her high cheekbones. But it was her hair that made her really stand out. Despite her relatively young age, her hair was the dark gray usually reserved for those at least twice her age. Evelyn told Sera one night that she had gotten teased mercilessly as a young child because of her unique coloring, leading her to be self-conscious about her hair until she was twenty.

Evelyn Trevelyan was a rare sort. The warrior was skilled in battle, wielding her blade fancifully like any good chevalier, and yet her technique resembled those used by Fereldens or Free Marchers. She was also a looker, her darker coloring and hair color making her unusual eyes literally pop. Evelyn had a way about her, an unconscious seductive nature that enthralled all who were around her and yet remained unknown to the young noble. Evelyn was all awkward and charming, something Sera would have thought better to describe herself with. Well, at least the awkward part.

Sera never fathomed that she would ever fall in love, especially not with a woman like Evelyn. They were complete opposites, veering on different ends of the spectrum. Sera was crass and outgoing, full and vibrant and full of all sorts of ideas and things she needed and wanted to say. Evelyn was more laid-back and calm, a sympathetic nature manifesting itself towards those mages she deemed deserving of their freedom. Sera herself could not give a whit about mages. Or at least not many of them. Magic made her uneasy and although it burned in her veins, in her blood, Sera refused to partake in what she perceived as "elfy" witchcraft. The difference of opinion might have been enough to sink most relationships in the water, but the Inquisitor would not be deterred from the woman she loved, no matter the circumstance.

Sera gently reached out, tracing the smooth skin of Evelyn's jaw before moving to her cheek. Evelyn nuzzled closer to the warm palm, making a small mewling noise in her sleep as she instinctively moved towards the scent and body even her subconscious would know anywhere. Sera ached deep in her chest at the movement, an uncomfortable swelling seeming to originate from her chest. Was that was love was supposed to feel like? Huh. It was almost like having a heart attack, but less lethal. She hoped it was not lethal anyway.

The elf let a few dark strands of Evelyn's hair trickle out from between her fingers. The woman had been working far too hard for the last few months. Now that everyone believed her to be a walking chosen of the Maker, the entirety of Thedas wanted to implore her for aid or kill her. Or both. In fact they had just finished a high profile mission in the Emerald Graves not three hours before. The little group had elected to stop at a base camp to relax for a short while and then be on their merry way. Dorian and Bull had both been fine with the idea. Sera had left the two making eyes at each other and flirting so blatantly you could feel the waves of tension and undisclosed desires waft between them. Sera quickly made her escape and searched for her Inquisitor.

The elf did not have the heart to wake the worn out woman, so instead she was content to just sit here and…be. She never could fathom why someone as important and selfless and beautiful would want to be with her. Everyone else thought she was a nutter, and honestly they were half right. It was as good a description for her as for Vivienne being a bitch, Cullen a workaholic, and Cassandra needing to get laid. Sera knew she was different than most people. Nobody seemed to understand what she meant, even when she thought it was pretty same wise. True, she talked in seemingly gibberish, but that was okay. That way only the best of the best would understand her, and maybe even like her.

It had come as a surprise when Evelyn seemed to understand her right off the bat. Not once had she acted like Sera was a loon or an immature child. The warrior always made a point to invite her to any big meetings and visited her almost every day to check on her and chat. Any mission that she deemed interesting to the elf, she'd bring her along. Evelyn was just insightful like that, knowing instinctively what you wanted or needed even if you yourself were in the dark. Her looks had first drawn Sera to her, but her personality caught her.

Sera was no blushing bride; she had had plenty of sex, lots of it. But nothing more ever came about; women wanted her body, loved the "crazy elf" in bed, but never wanted any lingering romantic obligations. She was good for a fuck or two, but never for keeps. It had bothered Sera when it first happened, but she had grown indifferent about it as time and her bed partners grew. Honestly, she figured Evelyn would be the same when it came to being intimate. No matter how amazing the woman seemed, Sera always got burned.

Until she didn't. When they finally reached that point when burning need could not be quenched by hot kisses or smoldering looks. Sera had been a ball of unreleased sexual tension, and she had finally had enough. The lithe elf had corned the Inquisitor on day in her quarters and _pounced_ on her. Evelyn seemed to need her just as badly, kissing Sera desperately like a woman half-starved and needing sustenance. But, instead of fast and hot and passionate like Sera had imagined, Evelyn slowed it down once on the bed. She had taken her time with the elf, memorizing every inch of pale skin on display with the reverence of a Chantry sister praying to her deity. Sera had fucked and been fucked, but never had she made love. It was different, but…nice. Very nice.

It finally hit her that this was for real when Evelyn had told the others about their relationship. Sera expected to be a secret, hidden away like a good little mistress. But Evelyn was quick to tell, and most were just fine with it. Vivienne got all huffy and haughty, showing clear disapproval in Evelyn's choice, but the warrior made it perfectly clear that she wanted Sera, and only her. The mage kept her thoughts to herself from then on, only shooting dark looks at Sera as she passed. So naturally, Sera stuck her tongue at her and maybe cut a pair of her underwear up. Thank the Maker for the few Mabari hounds running around camp; they were blamed and not she, although Vivienne always watched her around the mage's clothes from then on.

Sera smiled again, a full bright motion that lit up her face. She shuffled over next to her slumbering warrior, molding her body against the armored side. Her head was placed gently on a broad shoulder, and she closed her eyes listening to the steady beat of Evelyn's heart. Sera could finally say she owned a heart, could claim a love she thought foreign to her. The breach in the sky and the war between the mages and templars was bad, but she could not hate the turmoil that was threatening to tear apart all of Thedas. After all, it brought her Evelyn Trevelyan and Sera had never been happier.

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	3. Avalon and Cullen-T rated

A/N: The third chapter! I spoil you all way too much; and myself, of course. This one features a female Lavellan and…dun dun dun…Cullen! Gotta give some love to the male DA characters too, right? Next will either be Josephine or Cassandra. Tell me which one you want and the one with the lost votes will be next. Thank you all for reading/reviewing/favoriting! Y'all have always been the best.

Disclaimer: Look at chapters 1&2. Does it say I own DA? Nope. Though there was a lot of tears saying that.

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Avalon slowly walked to the commander of her army's quarters. The tall, wiry elf moved silently as a wraith, long silky blonde hair trailing behind her in the wind. The crisp autumn air smelled of nature, a heady scent that the young Lavellan had loved since she was a young elf. Her luminous blue eyes took in the view as she walked, feeling a peace take over her that she had not known since she had woken with the mark on her hand. Skyhold was a beautiful place to be sure. Avalon was sorry to see Haven destroyed and even sadder to think of the good men and women lost, but every event had its purpose. She was following her destiny, whether she was truly a prophet of Andraste or just an (un)lucky woman chosen to do what was right for the people of Thedas.

The rogue had just gotten back from the Hinterlands with Dorian, Cassandra, and Varric in tow. Dorian had fled immediately to the library, intent on reading up on a book discussing arcane warriors, a topic the man found most fascinating. Cassandra had said she was going to continue her strict training regiment, throwing her hands up and snorting in annoyance when Varric made a quick jab at her incessant need to pummel things with her blade. Just because he had given her the newest (and only) copy of _Swords and Shields_, they still were not technically friends. They had eased up on each other, but biting comments and hilarious consequences always seemed to follow.

Avalon, for her part, elected to go and find Cullen. She thought that perhaps he was in the war room with the other Inquisition advisors, but Josephine had accosted her in the diplomat's headquarters, stating that she believed him to be in his quarters poring over another mission. The blonde rogue thanked Josephine, her brilliant smile and warmth emanating from her eyes bringing a slight blush to the lovely Antivan's cheeks. Avalon turned tail and headed towards Cullen's newest quarters with a spring in her step, smiling wider as she thought of the light-haired man.

Cullen was different than any man Avalon had ever met. Growing up in her clan, Avalon was used to elven men being protective of their females and treating them with the utmost of respect. The men were groomed from birth to always revere their female counterparts, and they remained chaste until the perfect match was found. Avalon knew that elsewhere in the world, this was not the norm. That was not to say that shemlens were not decent beings; she had met quite a few that almost reminded her of the males from her home. But Cullen was an altogether different matter.

He was so strong and courageous, kind and confident but behind his masculine façade lay a weary man who wanted nothing more than peace between the denizens occupying Thedas. Avalon was not sure she would like him when they first met, as she sympathized with the mage's plight. After all, her own people were savagely uprooted from their native lands so she had an intimate view of what the loss of lineage and freedom meant. She was aware that Cullen was a former templar and she did not expect to get along with him much. But he was not like the man she expected.

His expertise in the art of combat was impressive indeed, and he used his experience with the templars to his advantage. Slowly but surely, the soldiers of the Inquisition were whipped into shape, formerly untrained and unskilled men and women transforming into a veritable army capable of holding their own. Cullen was proud of his army, there was no doubt. The pride was often reflected in his soft brown eyes.

He always treated Avalon respectfully. Cullen would hold doors open for her if he noticed she was behind him, or rush to open it if she was in front. He always made sure to include Avalon in conversations, whether they were of importance or not. Being an elf never seemed to faze him, and Avalon greatly relished that fact. They were not really friends, but were part of an organization that strove to make a difference in the world despite the fact that they were on opposite sides of a coin. Avalon and Cullen kept up a platonic relationship, business associates but naught anything else.

That was, until Avalon started noticing the man for more than his prowess in battle and his ability to be a gentleman. She started noticing how his hair turned to gold when the light of the sun struck it, each individual strand caressed as if by the Maker himself. The Inquisitor noticed the gleam that entered his eyes when talking about his faith, and the sadness that glossed over when talking about lyrium or his former life in Ferelden. Avalon noticed the way he would lean over the war room table, intently looking at each and every mission as if weighing the pros and the cons. He would stand up and rub his neck or shoulders, brows scrunching up in discomfort before smoothing over if he realized she was watching. Cullen always had to be the strong one, the responsible one.

Avalon learned, after sometime, that Cullen had never entered into a relationship whether it was purely physical or romantic. Once, when he was merely a young templar in the Ferelden Circle of Magi, he had loved a mage named Elena Amell. He wove a tale of a beautiful maiden, tall and touched by the sun, hair curling on the sides and the color of the softest earth. Her eyes were the dark cobalt of the lake surrounding the circle, full of knowledge and yet containing the ignorance of youth at the same time. The love was forbidden, but it was his. Elena never knew of Cullen's feelings, or if she did she remained oblivious on purpose. Elena was later blamed for the escape of another mage, a friend of hers, before being conscripted to the Grey Wardens. He never was able to say goodbye, and he did not see her again until months later.

Avalon recalled the utter heartbreak in his eyes and the way the lines on his face became more prominent. He had seen terrible, haunting things while still in the circle, things that even now caused him to wake in a cold sweat, fear in his gaze. A mage, Uldred, had resorted to blood magic and caused havoc on the normally peaceful circle. Cullen alone survived, watching his brethren fall before him. He was the only templar left alive in the tower, excluding his knight-commander and a small gaggle at the closed entrance. Elena had come to save the tower, save him, and yet he was blinded by his rage against the mages. He called for the Rite of Annulment, something that had horrified Elena. She refused, and it angered him further. He had always regretted his actions against the woman he had once loved, once laughed with. He never saw her again, transferring out to Kirkwall in the Free Marches. Diana Hawke, he once learned, was related to Elena. He had once asked how she was doing, having heard she survived the Blight. She had taken up with a Grey Warden named Alistair, the man turning away from the crown and electing a new ruler in charge. Queen Anora and King Fergus were quite happy by all accounts, and Fergus's sister Reyn was the woman Leliana talked constantly about, the love she was separated from for the time being. It was funny how the world worked sometimes.

Avalon had fallen slowly for the man, telling tidbits from her past and revealing things no soul had ever heard uttered from her lips. Theirs was not love at first sight, nor the second or third. But, it was still love. One fair morning on the battlements, Cullen had grabbed her and pushed her body against the wall, claiming lips that had longed to be his. Avalon remembered the softness of his touch, gentling even further as he reverently held a hip. His hair was so soft, her fingers sliding over and over again as their lips mimicked the motion. Cullen had this masculine scent about him, deep and almost protective, lulling her into a sense of complacency she had never known. Later he had loved her body in much the same way, both of them giving a piece of themselves to the other for all of eternity. Avalon never regretted a single second of it, especially when she got to wake up next to him the following morning.

Avalon reached the wooden door to Cullen's chambers, knocking softly and hoping she had not disturbed him from something important. She heard heavy footsteps, the door opening soon after. A cross expression was etched on his handsome face before disappearing as soon as he settled on her.

"Avalon…" he breathed, that special light coming back into his eyes.

He reached for her, crushing his lips against hers and holding her tightly in his strong arms. Moaning appreciatively, Avalon surrendered to his touch and let him lead her further in, closing the door securely behind her.

"I have missed you my love. That mission seemed to go on forever." Avalon clung to his frame, burrowing her face against his neck and letting the feeling of comfort wash over her.

"And I have missed you as well, Avalon. It was hard to concentrate on my papers when I knew you were scheduled to come back today. You are the best distraction."

Avalon chuckled mischievously, blue twinkling with mischief that would make Sera proud. "The best distraction you say? Well, I had certainly better live up to my reputation then. It just so happens I have something in mind…"

Cullen quirked a brow at her, eyes crinkling in amusement. "Oh really? And pray tell, what would that be?"

"Come on soldier; you are about to find out." With that, Avalon seductively sauntered over to Cullen and grabbed the front of his armor. Yanking him down to her height, she gave him a searing kiss full of lips and tongue and teeth. Pulling back a few moments later, she was pleased to see his eyes opening, dazed and dark as night.

"I stand by my previous statement. You _are_ the best distraction."

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	4. Evelyn and Sera 2-T rated

A/N: Right, so you know how I said I'd be writing either Josephine or Cassandra next? Yeah, well…my muse disagreed. I had this idea while I was showering after work last night, and it would not go away until I penned it down. I also had a cute idea for Cole, so he will be featured next. Then Eragon and Cassandra (toying with the idea of making this one M rated) followed by a possibly smutty Josephine pairing. Hopefully I will have all of these up soon, and also look out for a smut fic of Miranda and Jack from Mass Effect. Hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: See previous three chapters for the heart-rending news of my lack of proper ownership of DA. My life is incomplete….

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It all started with a bet.

Well…not precisely. Like most things that went awry in Evelyn's life, at least since they embarked on a relationship, it started because of Sera…and Evelyn's pride. But, mostly Sera.

You see, when Sera got bored, she grew deviant. When Sera grew deviant, Sera got ideas. When Sera got ideas, she got really bad ideas. When she got really bad ideas, she roped Evelyn into the mix. When Evelyn got roped into the mix, bad things happen. When bad things happen, really bad stupid things happen. When really bad stupid things happen…Cassandra gets involved. _Shit_.

The really bad stupid idea happened one crisp morn when there was literally no missions to do because of either being low on supplies or a long, extremely winded plan needed to be created. So, as Sera does when she has no mission to go on and is surrounded by giant stone walls with no place to go, the rogue got bored. Someone with the attention span of Sera that gets bored is a scary, scary thing. As Evelyn found out, very quickly in the relationship. On this particular day, Sera had the idea to switch her class. Specifically, she wanted to be a warrior for the day, and Evelyn to be a rogue. With the trading of weapons and clothes, of course.

Evelyn did not agree. She had seen most of Sera's clothes and, although the elf looked amazing in them (and even better without) the warrior knew her taller, slightly broader frame certainly would _not_. So, conscious of her own limits and yet wanting to spare her love the pain of reject, Evelyn very, very gently gave her answer.

"I don't think my boobs would fit in that outfit, Sera. I think it would be best if we didn't" There, see? Totally eased Sera into that one. Evelyn was such a good girlfriend.

But, Evelyn had made one fatal error: she _expected_ Sera to just give up. Pfft, did she even truly know the girl? Like hell she would let this go! The lithe blonde hair stepped closer, her choppy hair obscuring her face. Grinning smugly, she quickly morphed her features into place. Giggling inwardly, she chose that moment to strike. Her face slowly tipped upwards, exposing her greatest weapon, the one thing that never failed to get Evelyn to do her bidding: her eyes. More specifically, her Mabari eyes, the ones that looked all sad and teary. And Evelyn, the big sucker she was, fell for it like a tree to an axe.

"N-now Sera…Sera…c'mon Sera, you know that is not fair! Stop that this-no! Not the quiver! Put your lip back into place you little fiend! By the Maker, okay okay we will switch for a day! Just stop being so damn cute!"

Yeah, Sera was an evil genius. If Evelyn ever had to choose between all of Thedas and Sera, let's just say that the feisty elf would win every time. Except in moments such as this, when Sera out-manipulated the warrior once again. Evelyn groaned in aggravation while Sera skipped around and cackled maniacally_. I hope the Inquisition likes my breasts, because they are going to be seeing more of me than they want._ Oh, Evelyn. Should have kept the thoughts to herself.

Not an hour later, Evelyn stood stiffly in front of the mirror in Sera's room. By the Maker, she looked like a cheap Denerim prostitute! The kind that _pays_ the customer and smells like wet dog! The tall, tan warrior was dressed in Sera's usual outfit of choice, the top snugly cupping her breasts like a lover would, only this time suffocating them. An unhealthy amount of cleavage was exposed, and the tunic was so tight you could clearly see the definition in her abs as she breathed, the cloth molding to the muscles. The pants looked like weird cut-offs, ending to a little bit lower than her calf. The pants were so tight that Evelyn could barely walk, discomfort showing in every little wince when she made a step. And don't even get her started about the blasted shoes! Evelyn drew the line at the shoes. No way would her human foot fit into the tiny little elf death trap Sera always wore.

The silver-haired woman stared crossly at the shirt she was donning, tugging at the tight fabric and hoping to maybe stretch the material so it would fit better. No such luck. She shifted on her feet, the pants bunching up on her behind and itching her. _Damn it Trevelyan pride_…

While Evelyn was making disgruntled faces and twisting the clothing helplessly, she heard what sounded to be…clanking? Oh boy, this would be good. The warrior turned around, hurriedly scrunching her face to quell the burst of laughter threatening to burst forth. There, in all her little glory, stood Sera. More aptly, there stood Sera in a set of dragon armor…several sizes too big. The petite elf was nearly swallowed whole, her blonde hair barely sticking out. On her back was the massive shield shaped like a dragon's wing, and Evelyn's old, affectionately named "Inquisitor's blade." The warrior herself never used it anymore, favoring the new glittering sword crafted to her as a gift sent by Cullen himself. It seemed that Sera however was going to give the blade one last hoorah before permanent retirement.

While Evelyn was trying hard not to laugh at her lover, Sera was having no such problems. "Hahahaha, you…you…your breasts are falling a wee bit down, yeah? Never seen so much of you, at least not when dressing for battle!"

Evelyn was not amused. Ignoring the elf's cackle, or at least trying and failing to, the warrior shook her head. "We are not going on a mission dressed like…this. We can have a competition in the courtyard if you wish, but it would be dangerous to go off and fight with clothing and weapons we are unused to."

Sera paused for a moment, pondering that. Finally, with a sigh, she nodded her head making the armor clank some more. "I suppose you're right, Inky. Wouldn't want your ladybits showing off to every bandit on the coast, yeah? As funny as that'd be, only I get to see all that."

Evelyn shook her head fondly. She definitely dodged a blade there. But, she still did not relish her soldiers and, Maker forbid, her companions seeing her in such a state of dress. Swallowing her pride, lest she be called a nug again, Evelyn puffed up her chest and glided across the floor attempting to look graceful and valiant at the same time. It would have worked, if she had not tripped over a blanket lying in the floor. She barely caught herself against the wall, stumbling to find her footing. Her face turned red underneath her dark skin, and she averted her eyes from Sera's laughing ones. "Let's go," the Inquisitor gruffly said. Sera followed, smirking all the while and making offhand comments about the fall.

The soldiers and other hard-working folk of the Inquisition stared at the odd couple, looks varying from horror to amusement curling their gazes. Varric outright burst into laughter (complete with a few tears) when he caught sight of the two. A small flock of onlookers followed, eager to see the cause for such a strange occurrence. Soon, Evelyn and Sera were right beside the sack targets set up in the courtyard, just awaiting their respective weapons. Evelyn had grabbed both a bow and two daggers, confident that she would do just fine. Sera had just grabbed the sword and shield, cursing the heavy weapons under her breath. The two women pulled out the weapon of choice, staring hard at the other.

"Ready to be shown once again what the Red Jenny's can do?" The elven rogue spoke confidently, a smug little smile painting her face.

Evelyn snorted, shaking her head so that her hair would fly. "As if, it will be I who wins this match!" The two women circled each other, blue clashing with brown and heating up the place with tension. "Name the terms of this competition."

Sera tipped her head thoughtfully, a spark entering her eye. "We will do a series of tests that will show who is better than what at…some things? Like, you can try and shoot from the bow and hit something…if you can, anyway. The same can be said of my daggers, and we can see how well we fit in our own coats of armor."

Evelyn nodded her assent, pulling the bow from the quiver strapped to her back. She did it slowly to impress the onlookers…but mostly Sera. An arrow was also pulled, held delicately between her forefinger and pointer finger. She gave the arrow a little twirl, a debonair look overtaking her features. Winking, she nocked the arrow, the bowstring foreign and yet…familiar within her hands. _I so have this in the bag._ "Now, Sera dear…watch and _learn_."

Sera learned all right, and she most certainly watched. Everyone did…as the arrow sailed right passed the dummy and struck Cassandra in the chest. The crowd gasped and Evelyn threw down the bow, skidding to a halt right beside the seeker. "Cassandra, are you alright? By the Maker, I did not mean…"

Cassandra stalled the fumbling apology, a dark brow raising over piercing golden eyes. "I think that, perhaps, the bow is not…suited for you, Inquisitor. Maybe you should stick to the sword." Evelyn's cheeks burned hotly as the strong woman pulled the arrow from the sturdy mail encasing her body, tossing the bent arrow to Leliana who had quickly snatched the bow from the ground. The spymaster caught it, her own brow high on her face. Amusement threatened to play on her face; she hid it well, but Evelyn still managed to see it try to valiantly shine through. Sniffing, trying to save face, she turned dramatically from the targets and walked back to the starting point. Sera was currently in hysterics.

"Just a minor miscalculation on my part. I did not account for the wind, you see. Could have happened to anyone." _Except there is no wind at all today_…

Sera smirked, strutting forward to her leader. "The wind, yeah? Of course, why did I not think of that? Pity…I had so wanted to see a good shot. Oh well, better luck next time. Now, I guess it is my turn, huh?" The blonde elf reached up and slid the gleaming sword from its sheath. The metal glowed brilliantly in the light, and Sera basked in the oohs and ahhhs the movement garnered her. She then grabbed the shield hanging over her back and brandished it like a trophy. "For the Inquisition!" Sera roared loudly, rushing at one of the dummies closest to her position. She might have made it, too, if it was not for the distribution of the weight of the sword. Sera, having never used a sword before, much less like Evelyn's own, did not really think about how even heavier the weapon would be. Sera tripped, losing her balance and fell to the side. Sera swung the blade wildly in an effort to catch herself. Naturally, the flat of the blade smacked Evelyn in the head. She yelled, clutching her head in pain.

The advisors of the Inquisition rushed to their fallen leader, fussing over her wellbeing. What the hell were they supposed to do if their fearless leader was knocked loopy or given a concussion because of a silly bet? Thedas was certainly screwed in that event. Evelyn slowly sat up, scrubbing at her eyes and rubbing the side of her head in tandem. Sera was standing off to the side, kicking at the grass with a look melding between guilt and sulking. Evelyn fought against the overbearing protestations, groaning as she stood to full height.

"Hey, Sera?"

The elf finally looked up, nose scrunched unpleasantly. "Yeah?"

"Let's never do this again."

"Right…yeah."

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	5. Destiny and Cole-T rated

A/N: The newest chapter of Different Shades of the Inquisition! Although I myself am not a personal fan of this shipping (I have Cassandra, Sera and Josephine to play with, who needs more?) But I do have a soft spot for my resident spirit dude, so I had to give him some lovin'. Hopefully I captured his voice well; I had a bit of trouble thinking on what to say and how to say it. Thank you to all who have read/favorite/reviewed/followed this story; the Maker's blessings go with you all!

Disclaimer: If you think I own Dragon Age….I love you. But, you'd be wrong. So very, very wrong. I own diddly squat.

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Birds chirped high over Skyhold, milling and careening about quite happily and totally disregarding the hustle and bustle going on below them. The merchants were busy peddling their wares to the conglomerate of soldiers, warriors and mages residing in Skyhold. A new shipment of armor, weapons and accessories had finally arrived later that morning, and the merchants were trying their damndest to rustle in more money to line already big pockets.

Destiny sat by the roaring campfire set up in the courtyard set up outside the castle's walls. Her cinnamon eyes were bright as she looked around, searching for any glimpse of her companion. Cole had not manifested in some time, choosing instead to wander aimlessly the Maker knew where. The pale human sorely missed the young spirit, an ache residing right up in her heart. Her feelings for the boy were…strange, and almost unsettling. Destiny was not the sort of woman taken in by romance and flowery words, and Cole most certainly did not partake in either of those things. But, his penchant for self-sacrifice and want to always help people was admirable indeed and Destiny found herself drawn in by him.

He was technically a spirit, and becoming romantically involved with a spirit was completely unheard of. Could you imagine her advisor's faces if she told them she was seeing a young spirit manifestation of a boy who was the kindest, most giving-yeah, see, that right there…she was already in over her head. Cole was, by all accounts and purposes, not truly there. Well, he was, but nobody else quite knew that. Then why did her very soul cry out for him, for the one person truly forbidden to her by the very nature of the universe? The brunette remained seated, hoping against hope that Cole would appear and yet dreading the very thing. Maybe he would feel how desperately she needed to see him and come to her. Thankfully, the mage did not wait long.

The sandy-haired boy slowly materialized, his large hat hanging low over his brow. His eyes seemed to pierce her, staring deep into swirling pools and her very psyche and stripping her bare. Destiny shuddered, a tingling warmth infusing her cheeks and body as a blush came over her. Tch, when was the last time she blushed? Not in years, not even when Sera shamelessly hit on here and asked if she wanted "to shag, yeah?" Destiny, failing to hide her amusement, had politely told Sera that she was not into girls but that if she was, she would have happily screwed Sera into oblivion. Poor Sera's eyes had widened comically a that, an almost wistful look coloring her expression. But, the elf took the answer in stride and their friendship was none the worse for it. Actually, Destiny thought she had heard Sera muttering about trying for the tight-arsed seeker next….

Destiny scrambled to her feet, attempting to look unconcerned and every bit the tough Inquisitor she was supposed to be. Instead, she felt like the bumbling, lovesick teen she was feeling like. _Oh bollocks_. Wiping her sweaty hands upon her breeches, she shuffled over to Cole.

"Hey…how are you? Is everything…okay?"

Cole looked at her as if reading her; studying her. "Everything is fine; there has not been many bouts of pain since the last injured were healed by the mages. But there is plenty left for me to do. The wounds may be healed, but the scars on the inside are harder to heal."

Destiny nodded, respect washing over her. Respect had to be earned, not given, and yet Cole had accomplished what very few people did: earn hers. A shaking hand brushed back brown strands, her eyes averting from Cole. "Is that why you have not been around lately?"

Cole tilted his head, a look pf perplex ion on his face. "I have been helping people, and so have you. You are usually gone on missions, and the others…they might not be as understanding of my-my condition. Demons are not well-liked."

Cinnamon darkened to burnt amber, a slender face darkening. "You are _not_ a demon, Cole; far from it. Demons do not heal, do not care if somebody is hurt. It does not matter what others see you as, or what you appear to be. I do not see a spirit or a human when I look at you. All I see is Cole."

Cole stopped moving, his expression unguarded. Destiny could see a vulnerability there, a longing for someone to finally see him as something more than he was. He stepped closer towards her, gaze lingering on her face.

"Hot, fiery, scorching me from the inside. I try to run, but I cannot escape. I falter, question myself. _Am I wrong? These feelings do not feel right_. I look at him, but he is like the sun. I can't…I can't…no. I love with every fiber of me being, every edge of my soul. Falling, falling…fallen. Too late, I'm already there."

Cole lifted his head up after his recitation. "You…have feelings for me?"

Destiny stiffened, a look of panic registering with the spirit opposite her. Blast it, she had forgotten about his ability to feel those that needed him. Usually, it was a yearn for comfort, a reprieve. Destiny was not physically hurt, but her feelings must have been bright enough for him to sense and subsequently say. It was a mortifying experience.

"I-I don't…I can't…Cole, I-" Destiny was at a loss for words. She never, in a million blights, imagined that she would actually be conversing with the object of her affections in such a way. It was a love to remain behind a veil, sheltered away like an old toy, only pulled out when nostalgia overcame the sense and then was to be put back in a box until the next outpouring of fondness hit. But, as it seemed like it always did in Destiny's life, she was put between a rock and a hard place and both were crushing her.

"Yes, Cole. I do have feelings for you. I understand that this may change our partnership, that it may make things strange. But, if you can only try and forget-"

Cole stopped her with a hand, holding it up as a gesture of silence. "Why would I want to forget? You are the first person to accept me for me, and not what I am. Even Rhys could only fathom so much. He remembers me, he cares…but he is not you."

A small smile, the brightest she has ever seen on his pallid face, covers the entirety. She is sure she has never seen something so…so…bright and _beautiful_. It seems as if time stops around the two, leaving them alone.

"I used to wonder what my purpose was, what I was supposed to do with myself when I lost all of my friends. I help people, and I enjoy it. I'm _good_ at it. But…I know now where my heart truly lies; where my destiny is."

His next words would haunt her dreams for many, many moons to come. The way he looked at her….she'd never forget, not in a thousand years.

"_You_ are my Destiny."

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A/N: Corny, no? I did not see how effectively I could use Destiny's name until after I already used it. See? _That's_ Destiny. XD


	6. Diana and Josephine-T rated

A/N: Here is the next chapter! The next will be a continuation of this chapter, except it will be an all M-rating. So, if you do not like M-rated stories, I suggest skipping the next chapter. I am also nearly a thousand words into my Eragon/Cassandra chapter, so also be on the lookout for it. Krem will probably be the next featured following that chapter. If you have a character you wish paired with the Inquisitor of your choosing, say so in a review or even PM me. It can be a major or minor character. Again, thank you all who follow/fav/reader my stories. You guys make it so much more meaningful and fun!

Disclaimer: Read the previous chapters for the full disclaimer.

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"That was one hell of a fight, boss! Your mark sure comes in handy when we have a shit-ton of enemies."

Diana smirked, running a hand through her now tousled blonde hair. She really should have wrapped a cord around her long hair to keep it out of her eyes, but the mission had been a last minute thing and she had rushed out to grab her equipment and chosen companions. Bull, Dorian, and Cassandra had also hurried to suit up before they left to the Western Approach to deal with a contingent of Venatori. The battle had been long and difficult, but they were victorious once again.

"I really need to thank Corypheus on the anchor. It has been essential in kicking his own ass." The resident Qunari laughed, the great booming noise echoing around in the stillness that comes after every battle. The foursome was heading back towards one of the sprawling camps situated around the region. Hopefully, they would a strip of cloth there to bind her hair back. Dust and blood had congealed in it, making it look a mess. They all had various scrapes and bruises, and Diana had a nasty cut along her cheek. It would not scar, but it would take at least a week to heal properly. Maybe Josephine would not fuss too much…although, the kisses afterwards were worth a hundred tongue-lashes.

Diana's mind went immediately to her diplomat, the woman who had quite literally stolen her breath as well as her heart. The warrior knew when she first met her that she _had_ to win this girl over. The Antivan was beautiful; not beautiful as in what Orlais strove for and broadcasted, but an inner and outer brilliance that made you stop and just…_stare_. Josephine's mind was a complex and wondrous place to be, and Diana thanked the Maker, Andraste, and any other powerful deities that may be who had sent the woman to her.

Gray eyes darkened imperceptibly as she thought about the missive Josephine was waiting for. The woman had not wanted to risk any lives in stealing the order that the Montilyets be hunted down and murdered if they tried to get trading routes back. Josephine lost a slew of good men and women because of the order, and her own life and reputation were at risk. That damn assassin they ran into in Val Royeaux had set Diana's teeth on edge. She had been reluctant to leave her lover to go on the mission, but as Josephine and the other advisers pointed out, Diana had an obligation to the Inquisition and Thedas to fulfill and could not let personal feelings and reservations get in the way. So, with a heavy heart and a mind awhirl with worry, Diana passionately kissed her diplomat and left for the Approach.

The danger was real, but Josephine would be protected in Skyhold. No assassin, no matter how skilled, could break into the fortress. As long as she stayed put, which was never in question, everything would be fine. Josephine was safe, and Diana could be at ease.

"There, I see Adaya's face, and Remus too. The camp is just right there. We can rest for a bit, and then head home. I am sure there are more missions and objectives to do."

Dorian groaned, laughing softly as Cassandra shot him a look of exasperation. "Calm down, seeker. I know what is at stake and I know the missions are important. It would just be nice to relax sometimes, and not almost get blown or chopped to bits."

Diana silently agreed with the mage, remaining silent so as not to antagonize Cassandra. The woman was amazing with the sword and was growing to be a very dear friend, but sometimes she was just no fun at all.

"Alright, alright. Let's hurry and be done. I miss Skyhold, and my bed. I'm going to sleep for ages, and eat for more."

Dorian snorted. "Oh please, like we all don't know you are excited to see Josephine. You're so obvious it is almost criminal."

Diana blushed, frowning slightly. "Hey, I am not just happy to see her. I have other people I want to see and talk to."

"Yeah, sure boss. That lady has you so wrapped around her finger it is a wonder you can even walk."

Diana scowled, a blush forming on her cheeks as even Cassandra smirked. "You are just so hilarious. Enough with the jokes; let's just get to the camp."

Diana looked up at the sky, enjoying the heat and the wind as they worked in caressing her face. A smile blossomed on her face as she thought again of soft tan skin and a lilting and smooth accent. It would not be much longer now. Her companions were right; she wanted to see Josephine more than anyone else. Her soul was tied to the Inquisition, but her heart was tied to her love.

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The weary group slowly trudged up the steps to Skyhold, sore and exhausted but glad to be back. The soldiers guarding the gate quickly saluted, offering to take equipment and items from tired hands. Diana gently swept passed, declining any help. Her gaze was already focused on the doors leading inside the fortress, her mind mentally counting the steps between her and Josephine.

"No, but thank you Bailey. I will be alright to carry this. I am just going to go up and see my adviser to relay the mission."

The young soldier quickly saluted, big brown eyes unwavering as he stared in absolute loyalty of his charge. "Ay ser! I believe lady Montilyet is in the war room with the others. She came back about two days ago after that attack in Val Royeaux-"

Diana's eyes widened, her hand quickly silencing the boy. "Wait, you said attack? Josephine was _attacked_?"

The boy swiftly nodded his head. "Yes ma'am, she had traveled to Val Royeaux for something important and while she was there a group of assassins tried to kill her. A few Inquisition soldiers traveled with her as bodyguards and they were able to fend off the attack. Berthold is down with a busted arm and Cipher had a gash to the abdomen. Nobody was killed."

Diana did not stop to think or even thank Bailey. She was off, a renewed energy filling her limbs as she dashed inside. The blonde warrior ignored those around her, asking if she was okay and if the mission went well. Varric watched her go, a knowing look on his face. She threw open the doors leading to her lover's office, bursting passed and rushing to the war room. Her heart was in her throat, pulse throbbing and thumping. Diana knew subconsciously that Josephine was unharmed, but the worry she felt for her diminished rationality. Her girlfriend had been in danger; she could have been killed! And where was Diana? Fucking regions away, as useless as a two-legged nug.

The advisers were deep in discussion, throwing out plans to deal with Corypheus and his mad aspirations. The heavy door slammed against the wall, halting the talk. Three pairs of eyes took in the frazzled Inquisitor, hair messy and falling like a wave of silk down a still armored back. Her face was ashen, the healing cut on her left cheek standing stark against the pallid skin. Gray eyes were stormy, searching until they landed on Josephine. A low sound was ripped from her throat, and Diana briskly walked to the Antivan.

Josephine, seeing the look in Diana's eyes, hastened to reassure her. "Diana! It is so good to see you, I-" The warrior was upon her, grabbing the woman almost harshly. Josephine's jaw dropped, mouth forming more words. Diana, a need upon her, silenced her with a kiss that stole the air from the diplomat's lungs. A gauntlet covered hand stroked along the tan jaw, reverently holding the pliable body against her own. A whimper escaped the Antivan's lips, her own hands desperately fisting in the softest hair she had ever touched. They continued kissing, lips meeting again and again as the women basked in the feeling evoked between them. Diana reached down and grabbed one of the slender, tan legs before her and grasped the limb, lifting it and wrapping it around a strong waist.

Two sets of throats were soon cleared. Diana forced herself to back up a smidgeon, eyes dark as they landed on Cullen and Leliana. Cullen was blushing furiously, avoiding eye contact with either of them. He was rubbing the back of his neck, a sure sign of his embarrassment. Leliana, for her part, had a tiny smile upon her lips. She winked at Josephine, who blushed almost as badly as the commander.

"While I am glad that you seem…relieved," Leliana's smirk broadened, sky blue full of mischievous intent. "we really need to discuss our next mission, as well as continuing the process to reinstate the Du Paraquettes to nobility. Only then will Josephine be safe."

Diana nodded her assent, tightening her hold on the woman nestled securely in her arms. She would be focusing all her attention upon Josephine and making sure she was well-protected. She knew the woman did not want others harmed for her sake, but if it came down to it, Diana would go herself to the House of Repose and kill every last assassin. Diana loved Josephine more than anything else in her life, and she would be damned to lose her. People could try to take her, but Diana would always be there, waiting to catch the Antivan.

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